| After a rather greasy breakfast, we showed up for our 9 am appointment to go diving. Also, roaming around the dive shop was a rotund balding gentleman wearing his wet suit pulled down to his waist. I wondered if he would be joining us on our dive so I asked him. In what sounded to me like a Russian accent, he said he was getting SCUBA certified and was doing his first ocean dive. I asked him about his full wetsuit, as the instructors told us we would be wearing short wetsuits (short sleeve and short leg) since the water is so warm. He said mumbled something about cold water that I really didn’t follow and then said he was from Canada. My husband, I think mistaking his accent to be French, asked him if he was from Quebec. To which he replied a little gruffly, “No, from Toronto”. Based on this odd exchange combined with his appearance, my husband and I dubbed him Uncle Fester. I know that’s mean, but he’s in Canada (or Russia) and probably will never read this.
It’s after 9 now and we have our gear. Along with the regulators we brought masks and snorkels of our own. They gave us fins, BC’s and wetsuits. The regulators that the resort had were actually new, so we probably would have been OK using them. Turns out Uncle Fester brought all his own equipment from Canada, including a prescription mask and a fancy BC and regulator. We’re getting our gear together and in walks our last SCUBA diver. He is at least 6’4”, looks jolly, is from Australia and is named Siggy. He tells me that he is also getting certified, although he has already dived the Great Barrier Reef. So having our last diving companion Siggy, Uncle Fester, my husband, the dive instructor, another resort diving dude, and I head out in the van to go to another resort to catch a boat to take us to our dive site.
We get out on the water and its pretty rough. I express some concern, but the dive instructor points to a tiny island and tells us we’re going to go diving on the calm side of it. We stop, however, in what seems to me the most choppy part of the water. The instructor gives an overview of the dive site. It’s along a reef and we will be going to around 50 feet. There are lots of tropical fish and we may see some turtles. The instructor looks at our regulators and is pretty impressed. He asks where we get them, but at that point I have been on this very rocky boat for several minutes and I’m wondering if the Bonine is going to be able to handle this kind of motion sickness. I mumble that I got them at Sport Chalet and that I work there, but I am really just trying to stay focused on the horizon and not getting sick.
Uncle Fester goes in first and I’m still getting my gear on. I tell the instructor that I’m not feeling well and he says to get in the water, that I’ll feel better. Where have I heard that before?
We do a backroll entry from the dive boat, which I had never done before. It’s not too bad. You basically sit on the edge of the boat, put your regulator in your mouth, put one hand over your mask and regulator and the other hand over your mask strap and tip backwards into the water. With your regulator in your mouth, it’s pretty easy. Tim is still on the boat and the instructor tells me he’s going to take Siggy and Uncle Fester (although he doesn’t obviously refer to the Canadian/Russian gentleman as Uncle Fester) underneath the water and he will come back up for me and my husband. So I bob up and down on the surface of the water waiting for my putsy husband to get his butt into the ocean.
After an eternity, Tim finally gets in the water and we start to descend along the line. The water is a bluish/turquoise here and at first I just see bubbles and blue. We keep descending and I finally see the reef and the instructor and our two diving friends. The instructor gives us the OK sign to make sure we’re OK and everyone returns back in the positive. He motions us to follow him and we start swimming.
The ocean’s a pretty big place, so I start swimming and try to keep track of everyone. Most importantly, the instructor and my husband. When we did our first ocean dive in Los Angeles, Phil said he wanted us to work on staying closer together when we dove. But every time I move my flipper it seems to strike something, so I decide I’m swimming too close to the pack and move a little bit away (still with my eye on the instructor). Yet, I keep hitting something, so I look around and it’s Siggy. He’s followed me and is swimming practically on top of me. Ok, I think, it’s probably his first ocean dive and he’s a little nervous. It’s still annoying, however. I have a whole big ocean and can’t flip my flipper without hitting someone. It’s like I’m back in the pool in La Canada.
In the meantime, Uncle Fester cannot get a handle on his buoyancy and he flitters up and down like a butterfly. One minute he’s 10 feet above me and the next minute he’s skimming the bottom. The instructor tries to motion to him to fill or deflate his BC, but he either doesn’t understand or it’s not working.
The instructor takes us through a narrow passageway between two reefs and so we have to go single file. I look around and don’t see anyone so I follow directly behind the instructor. I guess I wasn’t the only one who wanted that position because I can feel something right below me and here comes Siggy swimming about 4 inches below me. Of course his equipment knocks into me, but he just keeps on barreling through.
Later Tim tells me that Uncle Fester had chosen him as his swimming buddy and didn’t stray for more than a few inches from him, unless of course he was rising to the surface or sinking to the bottom. At one point some hook thing on Fester’s fancy BC gets caught on Tim’s tank. Tim is swimming along and feels a fair amount of drag and looks around to see Fester pulling behind him. He tries to motion to Fester that he’s been hooked, but Fester doesn’t seem to know his own equipment and can’t figure out how to fix it. Tim finally frees himself on his own. I think that we must look like the silliest group of divers the ocean has ever seen. I can only imagine how the instructor related this little diving experience to his Fijian friends.
Despite the traffic jams and the buoyancy issues, I see some beautiful fish and it is really amazing. I’m still not feeling well, however, and wonder what it’s like to throw up in your regulator. Phil said it can be done, but it doesn’t sound easy or pleasant.
I see Tim’s face and can tell he’s in heaven. He used to have saltwater tanks when he was younger and knows all these fish by name. He keeps pointing things out to me and I sometimes see them and sometimes don’t.
It’s near the end of the dive and we see the line back to the surface. We swim up it for a bit and the instructor signals to stop so we can do a 3 minute safety stop. We are about 15 feet from the surface and I can see the rough waters above. In fact, we get tossed around a fair amount even below the surface. I just pray for the 3 minutes to go by quickly and I feel worse as each minute passes.
The safety stop is finally over and the instructor motions for us to go up. I break the surface and bob there for a minute. I really don’t feel well and start to swim towards the boat. Siggy, of course, is right next to me as always, but I realize that my breakfast isn’t going to stay with me much longer and it starts to come up. Ahhh, the usual. Except this time there were no fishies to come and clean up my breakfast. I look at Siggy apologetically, but he doesn’t seem too bothered.
I get on the boat in probably the most unelegant manner I can fashion and strip off my gear. The instructor and boat guy look concerned, but I tell them I’m OK, just a little queasy. My husband gets on board and he looks at me with a mix of sympathy and guilt. I tell him that I’m OK and it’s not his fault. I tell Siggy that I’m sorry, that it was pretty gross. But he just shrugs, smiles, and asks if I’m OK. Fester gets on the boat last and we head to shore.
Danielle - SC Expert
| 
With the presence of officials from the Ministries of Environment, Tourism, Reef Check Foundation, and the community of La Caleta, The Carey Aquatic Center officially opened in February. The Center will offer an alternative life to the community, who for years have hoped for a reward in this important protected area of the Dominican Republic.
